


the boyfriend shirt

by mothraesthetic (burritosong)



Series: 30 day otp challenge [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burritosong/pseuds/mothraesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lev laments over the fact that he'll never be able to steal his boyfriend's shirt, even though Yaku's always stealing his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boyfriend shirt

**Author's Note:**

> 30 day otp challenge, day six: wearing each others' clothes

Lev huffs as he rifles through his closet. Once again his favorite sweatshirt is missing and he had no doubt where it is. It seems that every time something of his went missing, he’d find it with Yaku.

 _On_ Yaku, actually.

That Yaku always seemed to somehow make off with mass amounts of Lev’s wardrobe without him noitcing, leaving him scrambling to put together an outfit any time he wasn’t going to school, was only mildly annoying, and even then Lev would forget his frustration almost as soon as it surfaced at the thought of how good Yaku looked swimming in his clothes. And he definitely loves that when he finally gets them back, they come back smelling like Yaku.

Still, he can’t shake the mild jealousy he gets at the fact that while Yaku can steal his clothes to wear whenever he wanted, Lev can’t do the same. Yaku is just too small and Lev is just too big, and the one time Lev had jokingly tried to squeeze into one of Yaku’s shirts he’d been left mortified by the fact that he’d torn it at the seams.

(He fixed it, thankful to his mom for teaching him how to sew, but no amount of mending could erase the horrible sound of the fabric of his boyfriend’s favorite shirt ripping from his memory.)

So Lev pulls on a different shirt than what he was planning on wearing, and heads over to Yaku’s for a movie marathon. He’s got a bag packed full of movies, because he doesn’t trust Yaku to choose anything other than gory horror slasher films, and he swings it at his side as he walks.

When he gets to Yaku’s, he finds Yaku wearing the exact same sweatshirt he’d been looking for.

They spend the afternoon curled up on the couch, pigging out on junk food and Yaku doesn’t even complain about Lev’s movie choices once. It takes them almost an hour to actually get up and for Yaku to walk Lev to the door, both of them wanting to linger for just a little bit longer. Before he leaves, Yaku presses a bag into his hands, and makes him promise not to open it until he gets home. Lev races the entire way back and stands in his front hall, shoes still on, as he tears into it.

“I have a shirt exactly like it,” Yaku says over the phone. “Smaller, obviously. But–well. You keep complaining you don’t get to wear boyfriend shirts or whatever so.” There’s a huff of static as Yaku sighs. “I washed it and wore it at home for a few days,” he adds, quieter. “So maybe it smells like me.”

Lev buries his nose in the shirt, inhaling deeply. The smell is faint, but it’s there–the laundry detergent Yaku uses, the smell of his body wash and cologne, the small hint of sweat.

“It’s perfect,” Lev says.

He carries it up to his room, holding it in his arms and nose pressed to the fabric. Right before bed he slips it on, making sure to take a selfie and send it to Yaku before lying down to sleep.


End file.
